


Surviving the Night

by ScreamingViking



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:31:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2286791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreamingViking/pseuds/ScreamingViking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A human teenage girl and turian guard on the citadel survive together through the Reaper War. Based on the conversations Shepard overhears in the refugee area.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surviving the Night

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I love all the little conversations you can eavesdrop in ME3, Shepard is so terribly nosey. There’s a small conversation you can overhear on the Citadel down by the refugee camps at the docks between a human girl and a Turian guard. This is based on those two.  
> You can watch the small snippets of conversation if you look up ‘ME3 Citadel, refugee teen and Turian Guard.’

Another shuttle arrived, bringing thousands more refugees to the citadel. Each one would spend days queuing and pleading. They would fill out forms and even trying to bribe officials only to realize there was no more room. 

It had started when Earth was hit. The Batarian systems had been so thoroughly devastated there were comparatively few refugees. Then the Reapers reached Palaven and Turian refugees came flocking. Omega fell to Cerberus, leaving the Terminus systems with nowhere else to run. Refugees flooded in from every corner of the galaxy, old politics and prejudices were swept away in the ever rising tide of desperation. The once pristine Docks of the citadel and the flashy lounges of the spaceports were now impromptu residential areas. Shipping containers were being used for temporary housing, food distribution, and medical stations. Refugees from every known species stood about, clutching their only possessions in the world. The stench of too many people living in close proximity permeated the air. 

Trent sighed and forced himself to stand straighter. As tired as he was of explaining to the new comers that no matter how many forms they filled out there simply wasn’t any more room in the citadel, he knew his position was practically luxury compared to that of those he was dealing with. At least Trent had an apartment to go home to, and his brother and niece had escaped Palaven to Thessia. He didn’t have to worry about them, they’d be safe there. He would focus on the people here and getting them the help they needed.

The line in front of his booth had finally dwindled. His job was largely to answer questions and help keep the peace in the overpopulated holding area. A very tall order, but he would rise to the challenge. He had his duty and he wasn’t going to let these people down. 

Standing off to the side of Trent’s terminal was a human girl. She was young, probably only a teenager, with blond hair tied back in a ponytail. She had been there all day; she must have arrived on one of the morning shuttles. Given the way she kept looking around he thought her parents must have been trying to barter entrance to the station  
somewhere and were due to come pick her up. 

Several hours later he wasn’t so sure. Wherever the parents were they shouldn’t have left her alone here, the citadel wasn’t that safe these days. 

“Hey,” he called out to her, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m waiting.” she said, tilting her head and smiling. 

“Waiting? Waiting for who?” he asked. 

“My parents. They put me on the rescue transport and said to wait for them here. They’ll come find me as soon as they can.” she said with a nod. She didn’t sound the least bit anxious or concerned. 

“Well, I guess this is a safe enough place.” Trent said. He was still a little unsure; she was obviously young and vulnerable and there were plenty who still resented humans. 

“Look, if anyone bothers you,” he said “let me know. I’ll take care of them, okay?”

“Sure thing, sir. Thanks!” she beamed at him. 

 

\----------------

 

She was still there the next day. 

Standing by herself in her little corner of the docks, she was looking out across the crowds searching for anyone she recognized. He looked up every now and again, amidst the crowds of people demanding answers of him, just to make sure nobody was bothering her. He kept hoping to see her parents find her and take her some place safe after a joyful reunion. 

The day crawled on, and news filtered in. Commander Shepard was apparently trying to broker a peace between the Turian Hierarchy and the Krogan Clans. Trent wasn’t sure about the politics but if even half of the stories the refugees told were true then any help was welcome, Krogan or otherwise. Surely that would be enough to repel the Reapers, and then they could start to rebuild. 

When his shift ended the human teenager was still alone. Most of the shuttles arriving that day had been from Batarian systems; maybe tomorrow would bring the missing humans. In the meantime perhaps she had gotten some news.

“Heard anything from your parents yet?” he called out hopefully. 

“Nope. It’s okay, I mean- they’ll get here. They always keep their promises.” she said, her smile faltering a little. “They… the next shuttle was probably just late or something. That’s all.” she nodded to herself. She looked up at him, her face expectant as though waiting for his confirmation.

“I’m… sure you’re right. I’ll look forward to meeting them.” 

\-----------

 

“Hey!” 

He looked up from his lunch. The blonde human girl was waving at him.

“Oh, hey, it’s you. Still waiting I see. Any news?” he asked, not quite daring to hope. It had been almost a week since she had arrived. 

She sat down next to him. She was wringing her hands.

“No, but they promised, right? They’ll get here soon.” She looked up at him and then back down at her lap again, as though afraid he would contradict her. 

He was still occasionally taken aback by how free humans were with their expressions. Turian faces weren’t nearly as expressive and they learnt how to control the reflexive movements as part of their mandatory military training. Humans on the other hand just went about smiling and frowning whenever they felt like it. Even Asari faces didn’t reflexively show as much feeling as humans did. It seemed almost invasive to him, seeing all their emotions so openly displayed made him feel as though he was intruding. 

Right now, this little girl looked like she was scared and trying to hide it. Trent wished he had some good news for her. 

“I’m sure they’ll arrive soon. I’ll drop by later to check in on you, if that’s okay.” At the very least he could make her feel a little less abandoned. Spirits knew how isolated this station could make anyone feel. 

“Okay.” she offered a faint smile. 

“How’s your family?” she asked him, “Oh… uh sorry if that’s too personal.” 

“It’s alright. I’ve got a brother and a niece who are on Thessia. They used to live on Palaven but they left just before the attacks.” He still couldn’t believe how perfectly timed their trip had been. They were his only remaining family. “From what I’ve heard my niece loves it there.”

“I’ve never been to Thessia. I’ve only ever been home and here a couple of times. Though, it looked pretty different last time.”

“Where is home exactly?” he asked curiously. They might be the newcomers to the galaxy but humanity had spread everywhere. 

“Arcturus Station. I was born there, but both of my parents are from earth.” she said proudly, her earlier dejection now forgotten. 

“Arcturus, that the Alliance’s headquarters isn’t it?”

“Yup! My Mom’s an engineer; she helps fix up the ships that dock there. And Dad’s a… I don’t know what you call it. He says he’s a soldier but I’m pretty sure he only does paperwork.” 

He chuckled at that. “Well the paperwork doesn’t do itself.” he said lightly. “But speaking of paperwork, if you give me their names I could see if they’ve shown up in the system anywhere. There are a lot of different docks on the Citadel you know.”

“I didn’t think of that, thank you!” she said, smiling brilliantly at him. “They could be looking for me anywhere. Their names are Brendon and Macie Grahams. I’m Stacy Grahams by the way.” She held out her hand. 

“Nice to meet you Stacy, my name is Trent Kerlus.” He looked at her outstretched hand for a moment before remember the human customs regarding introductions. He reached out and gingerly shook her hand. Human skin was very delicate apparently; he didn’t want to scratch her with his talons. 

 

\-------------------

 

The Citadel was abuzz with the news: the Genophage had been cured. The Krogan Clans were supplying aid to the Turian fleets and sending troops to Palaven. 

Krogan and Turians alike were celebrating on the station. Trent couldn’t help but grin at the news, he didn’t much care about the genophage one way or the other but with the two forces working together the war must surely be on its last legs. A few Salarians looked a little sheepish when it was later announced that the Salarian Union was declining to  
lend aid but otherwise there was a newfound feeling of hope pervading the Station. 

Then he saw Stacy. Her usual smile was a pale shadow of its former self, her shoulders were drooping and she was staring at the ground. 

“Hey there.” he called out.

“Hey.” 

“Looking mighty low today. You okay?” He asked cautiously, “Anyone been bothering you?”

“No, it’s not that. I’m fine.” she smiled faintly at him before dropping her gaze to the ground again. 

“Ah, I see.” His search for her parents in the database hadn’t come up with anything yet but he was still looking. She might have heard something from elsewhere though. “So, um …any news?”

“No. They just… their shuttle must be really slow, that’s all.” She looked up at him again, clearly expecting him to have all the answers. “Do you think they’re okay, Trent? They promised they’d come get me, no matter what they had to do. But it’s been so long.” She sounded so forlorn; he wished he had good news for her. 

“I don’t know kid. I’m sure they’d be happy, knowing you’re safe…” he knew she wouldn’t find it comforting, but what else was there to say? No one had heard anything from Arcturus Station since the first wave of escape shuttles. 

“It’s just… I miss them…” she sniffled, her voice cracking a little. “I miss them so much.” 

She looked away. 

 

\------------------

 

Trent had just arrived the next day when gunshots rang out. 

Soldiers in white and yellow heavy armour were gunning people down. Half the C-Sec officers had already fallen. 

Over a decade of military service saw him snapping into action. He helped the refugees hide in the shipping containers with instructions to lock the doors from the inside. He wished he had a pistol, anything to help provide cover for the terrified civilians. Screams could be heard everywhere, children and adults crying and praying for their safety as they rushed to shelter. 

Eventually the gunshots died down. The gunmen, Cerberus going by their colours, had continued further on into the station. Why were they doing this? What could they possibly hope to gain from shooting civilians? What was the point to this slaughter? 

He crawled to the body of the nearest C-Sec officer. He had been a nice guy. Now he was riddled with bullets. Trent closed the man’s glazed over eyes before taking his comm. 

It wasn’t until hours later that C-Sec headquarters gave him the all clear. The Cerberus troops had been cleared out by Commander Shepard of all people. Some radio chatter mentioned something about the human Councillor but he paid it little mind. For now the refugees could come out of their cramped shelters and the injured could be sent to the hospital. 

He was walking back to his booth, wondering what disaster would strike next when he noticed an arm peeking out from one of the rows of seats. Crouching down he saw Stacy, facedown and blood splattered. 

He pulled her out from under the seat and quickly checked her pulse. Still breathing, but she was very pale. There was a lot of blood soaked into her clothing but he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. What were you supposed to do for a bleeding human? He found where she was injured; a bullet had gone straight through her shoulder. He didn’t have any medi-gel and all his triage training was for his own kind. He couldn’t press down on the wound the way he would a fellow Turian, he would just do more damage. There was so much blood. 

The ambulances arrived. The medics quickly picked her up and whisked her away along with the other wounded. He was left stained with red and trying to direct the crowds of exhausted and bewildered refugees.

 

\--------------

 

With the heavy losses sustained from Cerberus’ attack he had been left working double and even triple shifts. As soon as he was free he made his way to the nearest hospital. It wasn’t until he arrived that he realised they probably wouldn’t let him see Stacy anyway. After giving her name to an exhausted nurse and explaining that no, he wasn’t a relative, just a concerned stranger, he wondered if this was wrong. 

He didn’t know her. Not really, she just happened to stand next to his work terminal. But even as the nurse gave him a disapproving look and a ton of forms to fill out, he decided that he was doing the right thing. 

This girl had nobody. There were no panicked parents here begging the doctors to know the fate of their child. There weren’t any caring friends waiting to hold her hand as she woke from surgery. He might not be a relative, spirits, he wasn’t even the same species, but nobody deserved to wake up alone in a strange hospital. 

If nothing else, at least he was a familiar face. 

It was a few days later when the hospital staff finally let him visit her. She had been operated on and had only just woken up. She recognized his name when the nurses asked her if she knew him. 

He entered the small room the nurses pointed out to him. Inside Stacy was lying on a hospital bed next to a floor to ceiling window offering an expansive view of the Presidium.  
She looked so pale.

“Hey there.” he said softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Hey Trent.” she said, her voice quiet. “I got shot.” she sounded a little baffled by that.

“Yeah, you did. But they’ve patched you back up. The nurses say you’re going to make a full recovery.” 

“Yeah. You didn’t get hit did you?” she asked, looking up at him with concern.

“No, they didn’t hit me. I thought I’d come see how you’re doing.”

“Thanks. I’m... I’m okay.” She looked down to where her hand was fidgeting with the top blanket. “I had a dream. My parents found me. They were okay, everything was okay.” Her hand stilled. “We went to Earth and watched the sunset together.” 

There was nothing he could say. He sat down in the chair next to her bed. 

“Trent, did you find them?” Her voice quivered with emotion, she still wasn’t looking at him. “Was there any mention of them in the databases?” 

“I’m sorry Stacy. I haven’t found them.” 

She broke down and wept. Tears streamed down her face and choked sobs sounded so quiet and forlorn in the sterile hospital room. He gently placed his hand over her scrunched up fist. There was nothing he could say, so he simply sat with her. She held his hand and wept.

“I don’t know what to do Trent.” she said, the words barely coherent through her sobs. “I don’t know what to do.” 

 

\-----------

 

Stacy was released from the overcrowded hospital. She returned to her corner in the refugee camp of the docking lounge. Weeks passed. She stopped asking about her parents. 

He kept looking anyway.

The Reapers steadily encroached upon the safe places of the galaxy. Occasionally news would reach the Citadel of Commander Shepard and the Normandy. The Geth and the Quarians made peace with each other and promised their support for the war effort. The Salarian Union changed its mind and supplied what it could. Help was promised from all corners of space; even the mercenary gangs from the Terminus Systems were reputed to have joined the cause. The Asari systems however were still untouched, and their forces unmoved. 

Then Thessia was hit. 

Trent stood in front of the news screens. Lists of casualty were scrolling past on one of the monitors; an Asari reporter spoke on another. The losses were catastrophic.

The Asari were falling. 

He hadn’t heard anything from his brother in over a week. He didn’t even know where on Thessia they were staying, but he remained glued to the wall of screens. A deep panic was gnawing on his insides and threatening to choke him. 

A small hand slid into his. Startled, he looked down and saw Stacy standing next to him. He didn’t know how long she’d been there. She glanced at him and offered him a weak smile before looking back to the screens. She squeezed his hand. 

The reports continued. 

 

\---------------

 

Three days later the Reapers attacked the Citadel. 

It was the most terrifying thing Trent had ever seen. Hideous creatures screamed as they attacked everything in sight. Twisted forms that might once have been Turian shot anything that moved, while gangly screeching monsters with long clawed arms tore apart anyone they could get their hands on. 

Trent had been just leaving the refugee area when the attack came. The monsters were relentless, the refugees were swiftly scattered and slaughtered. Trent grabbed Stacy and ran. 

They left the docking area and fled through a commercial zone. Distorted forms of Asari wailed and threw biotic shockwaves amidst the slaughter. Huge hulking monsters charged back and forth pulverizing anything in their way. 

Trent grabbed the pistol and a clip from a fallen C-Sec officer and kept running, pushing Stacy along in front of him. She was too horrified to speak and just silently ran wherever he directed. The central lighting failed. Faint red emergency lights glowed eerily overhead. They ran into a commercial kitchen, probably part of a restaurant.

It was a dead end. Wait, no, there was a chiller room.

Both of them piled into the walk-in-fridge and Trent hastily turned and locked the door. 

He didn’t know if they had been followed, or if the door would hold up under an assault. 

The cooling unit seemed to have cut off along with the central lighting. Both of them were bruised and scratched from their mad dash to shelter. Outside they could hear the ongoing slaughter. 

With no other option, they sat and waited. What they were waiting for, neither could say. It was dark and cramped. Frozen goods were defrosting around them. 

There was nowhere to run. Commander Shepard wasn’t there to save them this time.

“Trent?” a small voice whispered in the darkness. He was amazed she hadn’t broken down yet.

“Yes, Stacy?” he asked, keeping his voice down. 

She sniffled; he could just make out her form as she wiped her nose on her sleeve.

“Thanks for looking after me.”

“You’re welcome kid.” 

 

\-------------

 

They spent four days waiting in the chiller room. Trent would never forget the terrifying vigil. He held Stacy while she wept, when the reality truly dawned on her. He maintained his composure for her sake, but when he felt the edges of his control cracking under the realisation that this was really the end, she held his hand and smiled at him. 

On the fifth day, when the food was beginning to rot, and the sounds of the reaper troops had gotten ever closer to their little refuge, salvation came. There was a massive rush of power, all the lights turned on and glowed with brilliance far brighter than they were designed for and then burst in a rain of shattered glass. Absolute silence reigned over the whole station. 

The Reapers fell from the skies.

They stepped out of the chiller to find endless halls filled with dead reaper troops. They two of them sat and wept, overcome with the knowledge that the nightmare was finally over.


End file.
